Chapter 2: The Morning
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The little lovebird, Diamant as Christian aptly named her, continued her morning song in her cage, outside the garret window. She paused, ruffling her feathers and looking a second at Christian, but looked out onto the Montemarte streets again and continued. Christian was still asleep, longer than he usually did, usually the song would wake him, but having a dreamless sleep tunes you out of everything and anything, deeper than a dream. A small shisk-ing sound slid under his door, as another letter, pushed under by someone, resting silently on the floor. The sound, as light as it seemed, woke Christian up. He began blinking, to get used to a Saturday sun, and cocked his head to the door, raising an eyebrow at the letter, It didn't look like the one he pushed off his night stand, which actually rested closer to the stand its self. 'Another one?', he said, confused, to himself.
He began staring through the wall, hearing footsteps going down the stairs. He scrambled out of bed, opening the door. Wandering down the stairs out in the lobby of the Chambres, watching the door close after someone. "Wait! Excuse me!" He asked of the person, but it was too late.
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, and peering over to the landlady, who was looking back at him, but further down. He looked down himself, noticing he was still in his dress pants, which were quite loose around his waist, and nothing else.
"Oh...s-sorry... um..." he laughed a little, "Um did you happen to get a glance at that person who walked out?"
She shook her head no, "Sorry love."
"Oh, its okay. I'll...", he looked down again a little embarrassed, "I'll be going back up to my room, now...", slinking his way back up the stairs.
He walked back into his room, snorting to himself. He was so close to seeing this admirer of his, dammit. He stepped on the new letter, lifting his foot back and looking down at it. He picked it up, turning it over a few times, still no signature. He threw on it his night stand, deciding to read it later, as he looked at it, then the picture of Satine next to it. When she died he got most of the tidbits she had in her dressing room. Other small pictures of her scattered the walls, something to remind him of how beautiful she was, and why their love had to be doomed like it was.
Christian went over to his lovebird's cage, opening the door and carefully taking her out, leaning back against the open window outside. She fluttered a bit, but didn't fly away, as over the past months was used to her new handler. He held Diamant close to his chest, petting her head with his thumb gently. Her small, smooth feathers reminded him of Satine's skin, soft and relaxing to touch. He smiled, propping her on his finger, softly whistling a little tune and waiting for her to sing it back. He stopped, as soon after she whistled back, and back and forth they sang to one another in whistles. It was always a regular routine to them to sing to each other on any day. It grew friendship, love, trust, and Christian brushing up on his whistling skills. He brought Diamant closer to him and kissed her on her head, putting her back in the cage, any unrest that happened that week locked away as well. He turned around, looking at the new vanilla-white letter still resting on the night stand. 'Might as well', he said, and picked it up, resting on his bed and back against the wall.
He opened the first fold, and then the second, skimming the bottom, still no signature. He looked at the rest of the letter, relaxing more and began to read it:
"Christian
I'm surprised you haven't replied! Knowing you, a writer, I'm sure there would be at least something in return. But, I guess you'll be doing that later.
'Later?', he said, thoughtfully...
"I know we've hardly seen each other, but I want to see you tonight, at 8 o'clock, in the Gothic Tower at the Rouge. Seems a little much, but I guess, to tell the truth, I'm desperate.
Christian laughed, amused, 'desperate, aye?'. He read on...
"I know you read the other letter, sorry for it being extreme in that manner. I doubt you're naive little body could take it. But being so frail on the outside can hide so much on the inside. You're a very creative person, you could use that creativity for more than just writing, you know. Hell, you're probably a great lover, Christian.
He blinked back.
"I won't say anything more. I went overboard when I started describing in the first one, didn't I. I'll wait for tonight. Hope to see you there.
I'll be waiting."
And that was it. Oh wait, a P.S.?
"P.S.
I'm sure our little meet could resolve the conflicts in the past. Adieu until then."
'Conflicts?', he was getting pretty suspicious now. 'What conflicts? I hardly know you, but we've met before?'
He looked at his pocket watch resting next to him on the night stand. It was 11 a.m. now. He pondered back at the letter, turning it over and set it back on the night stand, still looking at it.
'Conflicts...'
~
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The little lovebird, Diamant as Christian aptly named her, continued her morning song in her cage, outside the garret window. She paused, ruffling her feathers and looking a second at Christian, but looked out onto the Montemarte streets again and continued. Christian was still asleep, longer than he usually did, usually the song would wake him, but having a dreamless sleep tunes you out of everything and anything, deeper than a dream. A small shisk-ing sound slid under his door, as another letter, pushed under by someone, resting silently on the floor. The sound, as light as it seemed, woke Christian up. He began blinking, to get used to a Saturday sun, and cocked his head to the door, raising an eyebrow at the letter, It didn't look like the one he pushed off his night stand, which actually rested closer to the stand its self. 'Another one?', he said, confused, to himself.
He began staring through the wall, hearing footsteps going down the stairs. He scrambled out of bed, opening the door. Wandering down the stairs out in the lobby of the Chambres, watching the door close after someone. "Wait! Excuse me!" He asked of the person, but it was too late.
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, and peering over to the landlady, who was looking back at him, but further down. He looked down himself, noticing he was still in his dress pants, which were quite loose around his waist, and nothing else.
"Oh...s-sorry... um..." he laughed a little, "Um did you happen to get a glance at that person who walked out?"
She shook her head no, "Sorry love."
"Oh, its okay. I'll...", he looked down again a little embarrassed, "I'll be going back up to my room, now...", slinking his way back up the stairs.
He walked back into his room, snorting to himself. He was so close to seeing this admirer of his, dammit. He stepped on the new letter, lifting his foot back and looking down at it. He picked it up, turning it over a few times, still no signature. He threw on it his night stand, deciding to read it later, as he looked at it, then the picture of Satine next to it. When she died he got most of the tidbits she had in her dressing room. Other small pictures of her scattered the walls, something to remind him of how beautiful she was, and why their love had to be doomed like it was.
Christian went over to his lovebird's cage, opening the door and carefully taking her out, leaning back against the open window outside. She fluttered a bit, but didn't fly away, as over the past months was used to her new handler. He held Diamant close to his chest, petting her head with his thumb gently. Her small, smooth feathers reminded him of Satine's skin, soft and relaxing to touch. He smiled, propping her on his finger, softly whistling a little tune and waiting for her to sing it back. He stopped, as soon after she whistled back, and back and forth they sang to one another in whistles. It was always a regular routine to them to sing to each other on any day. It grew friendship, love, trust, and Christian brushing up on his whistling skills. He brought Diamant closer to him and kissed her on her head, putting her back in the cage, any unrest that happened that week locked away as well. He turned around, looking at the new vanilla-white letter still resting on the night stand. 'Might as well', he said, and picked it up, resting on his bed and back against the wall.
He opened the first fold, and then the second, skimming the bottom, still no signature. He looked at the rest of the letter, relaxing more and began to read it:
"Christian
I'm surprised you haven't replied! Knowing you, a writer, I'm sure there would be at least something in return. But, I guess you'll be doing that later.
'Later?', he said, thoughtfully...
"I know we've hardly seen each other, but I want to see you tonight, at 8 o'clock, in the Gothic Tower at the Rouge. Seems a little much, but I guess, to tell the truth, I'm desperate.
Christian laughed, amused, 'desperate, aye?'. He read on...
"I know you read the other letter, sorry for it being extreme in that manner. I doubt you're naive little body could take it. But being so frail on the outside can hide so much on the inside. You're a very creative person, you could use that creativity for more than just writing, you know. Hell, you're probably a great lover, Christian.
He blinked back.
"I won't say anything more. I went overboard when I started describing in the first one, didn't I. I'll wait for tonight. Hope to see you there.
I'll be waiting."
And that was it. Oh wait, a P.S.?
"P.S.
I'm sure our little meet could resolve the conflicts in the past. Adieu until then."
'Conflicts?', he was getting pretty suspicious now. 'What conflicts? I hardly know you, but we've met before?'
He looked at his pocket watch resting next to him on the night stand. It was 11 a.m. now. He pondered back at the letter, turning it over and set it back on the night stand, still looking at it.
'Conflicts...'